Good thinking, citylinking

As the month of May is nearly behind us, this is a quick summary...

I was fairly pleased at how quickly I recovered from the Fling. I even managed a PB at the Women's 10K the weekend after and finished 119th out of over 10,000 finishers. Which probably says more about the runners (eh, walkers) than my athletic ability. I agree that is wasn't the best recovery strategy, but the race is really special to me. It's the reason I started running in the first place. My ninth in a row, so I would have crawled round on my hands and knees if required. Thankfully there was still a little bit of zip in the ol' pins. And that's my annual 10K over with for another year. Way too much like hard work for me.



The piece de resistence of West Highland Way training was centred around a two-day run, covering the 72 miles (of the 95 route) to Kingshouse. Milngavie to Beinglas on the Wednesday (41 miles) and Beinglas to Kingshouse (31) on Thursday. Sometimes the logistics of a point-to-point routes are more taxing than the actually running itself. This year I booked good ol' Citylink bus back each day, which worked out brilliantly. The downside is being restricted to specific timing as the Citylink service is a pretty irregular service - from Kingshouse there was a bus at 2.30pm and 7.30pm - and standing about chittering waiting on a non-punctual bus service.

Originally I planned the week off work, but a major project launch put a swift kick to that. I try to be as disciplined as possible when it comes to training (when the body's willing) so I just had to work round it. Which meant five days off became two, I had to carry two phones, stop for regular email/phone breaks and work in the evening. But hey ho, it meant I could get out on a trails for two days, so it was worth it.

The Gibbering Midget had also taken two days off. I train so much on my own these days, that it really makes you appreciate some buddy support. The miles always tick by. Plus, we pretty much done all our long together, so we're in sync. There's the unspoken way we know when to pick up the pace, knock it back, walk the hills and start again. And regardless of how many times we tell each other we're going to take it easy, it's always eyeballs and elbows out for the last mile.

Both days just flew in and were really enjoyable. The weather could have been kinder, but it could have been a whole lot worse. In true Scottish style, we were hit with all conditions. Head down driving rain and wow-wee-check-out-the-view blue skies. Unfortunately our feet were sodding wet for most of it. I think my feet practically came off with my socks. Oh well, my summer sandals have been redundant for a few years now.



The plus-side was my legs felt fairly good at the end of it all. Much better than they were after the two days last year. I was kinda wishing we could have done the final sections on the Friday. But when I was watching the hail stones pelt off the streets from the comfort of my office, I got over that quite quickly.

The glorious weather continued into the club's annual training weekend at the Trossach's Tryst in Callander. This year Coach Lesley joined us, so there was more training and less partying involved. As I'd done my longs on Wednesday and Thursday and Sonic was running on Friday and Saturday (see what I mean about having to be disciplined), I intended on doing a few leisurely jogs, but mostly spending some QT with my boy. Last year the weather was glorious - actually too hot - and we went on nice walks, ate ice-cream, went to the park and splashed about in the Loch. This year we had bouncing rain, so we were pretty much housebound and stuck watching reruns of Toy Story. My three mile run on Saturday evening turned into seven miles, in a vain attempt to ward off the cabin fever.

On Sunday morning I ran the 12 miles from Callander to Aberfoyle on the number seven cycle track. About five miles of it is all up hill, but it's worth the puff as it's a glorious route. Lots of wow-wee moments. The terrain is just perfect to consistent running and working hard. And as I'd started early I had the place to myself. The other guys started later and went in the opposite direction. I think I took the easier option :-) At least I had a warm-up



Anyway, now I'm off to meet the GM to run from Kingshouse to Fort William. Last piece of the puzzle.

Training in the Trossachs

A running club training weekend conjures up images of wholesome , jolly tree-huggers prancing about in lycra, sipping aloe-vera juice and munching on gogi berries. I had many a tut and rolling eye when I told my colleagues I was off to Callander for the weekend with the troops in blue. In reality: yes, there was a fair amount of running, but there was also a lot of drinking and eating. I now look like you could squeeze a gin out my nose and I'm sure I've got a pot-belly. The only thing that has got me through the day is reading all the "Flingers" blogs and the knowledge that I going to the cinema after work. No running for me today.

So best start at the beginning. We arrived at the Trossach's Tryst late on Friday afternoon. It was pouring with rain, so I used the I'm-cooking-dinner-excuse to bow out of a the steady-five-miler. Actually, as I've said all along - I'm trying to make every run count, so I didn't see the point in plodding about in the rain just for the sake of it. I just rustled up fajitas for 20 and drank gin 'n' tonic. Quite civilised me thinks. Then I proceeded to polish off most the bottle and demolished lots of chocolate... and someone else will need to fill in the blanks.

I woke up on Saturday, probably feeling better than I deserved too. After a "rest" day, I was full of beans (OK, gin) and really looking forward to the one minute intervals. We drove out to the cycle track and Rob took us through some drills. I nearly brought up my Special K laughing at Marco's attempts. Gawd, the things you witness when you don't have a video camera. Arms and legs were flying everywhere.

The warm-up was a struggle, but the reps were great. The session was quite straight forward. We were split into groups and sent 20 minutes out, 20 minutes back. One minute ons and offs. Simple, right? Everyone finishes back at the same point in 40 minutes, right? Wrong. We all had to go on the hunt for Marco and the dafties, who turned up five minutes later.

After a relaxing afternoon with a bit of shopping, reading papers and sipping hot ribena we headed out along the loch for some hill reps. Athole and Marco went on the hunt de hill on Friday, so I was bit nervous about their discover. The two mile warm-up, although unnecessary, was quite pleasant. Arriving at the hill/mountain, some of group cowered away before the ascent. So, Kenyan hills it was. In summary, this means going up and down at the same speed without recovery. We went up and over the hill, down the other side and up again and again and again. Five in all. As usual I started out thinking, I might just do three or four, but I'm a stubborn buggar. I'm sure the scenery was amazing, but I found myself concentrating on my shoelaces and trying not to headbutt the road. Don't tell the guys I said so, but it was a cracker of a session. Although half-way into the two mile cool down, I was so over it.

The sun had come out on Saturday afternoon, so we had a mighty BBQ feast, more drink and a ASBO award-winning few hours with Singstar. I'm sure Sonic will tell you he got the highest score of the evening. What he probably won't tell you is that he lost everytime he was up against me.

On Sunday morning, we drove over to Aberfoyle and ran the number 7 cycle track back to Callander. The weather was fabulous and the route was amazing. Still, silent, crystal blue lochs, reflecting the surrounding hills. I have to admit I struggled on this run. I would love to say I still have marathon in my legs, but I really came down to the weekend's overindulgence. I even had to stop and walk at quite a few points. But there was no rush, so I really enjoyed it. My average pace for the 12 mile route was 10.11. Yikes. I'll put that in WHWR training catergory, won't I?